A/N: Alright, here goes nothing. This is my first attempt at writing a post-season 5…basically, my idea for what season 6 could be. This is somewhat of an AU though - Veronica is still alive and she and Lincoln are together (nothing against Sheba, I just feel like I know Veronica better, and can write about her more in depth). They (Michael, Sara, Linc, and Vee) all live in Ithaca, NY when this story begins. Linc and Vee moved there wanting to be close after Michael "died" to be there for Sara (and Mike, once he was born).

I'm not sure yet, but other characters may come back from the dead…I always like writing for Kellerman…maybe Mahone will make an appearance…Warden Pope is back because I don't like inventing new people haha. That way you have a face and voice to go with the name. Some guards may re-appear too…maybe Bellick will come back and resume his Fox River duties…*Sigh* Let's just see what happens folks 😉

This story begins in the summertime, basically right after season 5 left off. I'm guessing the time of year given the outdoor scene with Michael and Linc, Mike and Sara, Sheba…the soccer ball and tank tops haha, and anyways, Mike will be out of school for the summer, which means more family time ;)

As always, your words and reviews seriously do encourage me to keep going. I'm always happy to hear your thoughts!

XXXXXXXXX

"Open on fourteen!" a guard shouted frantically, loudly, over the roar of noise inside the cell block of Fox River.

Inmates cheered and hollered as a fight carried on behind the bars, Theodore Bagwell attacking Jacob Ness, the newest fish in the tank.

If T-bag had learned one thing from Michael Scofield, it was that a screw, sneakily taken from the bleachers in the yard, made a nice weapon, should one find themselves needing one. And he certainly had.

He'd heard through the grapevine who his new cellmate would be, which gave him a bit of lead-time, preparing to inflict the utmost pain upon the man who'd killed his son. He'd kill Jacob for it. After all the time served, the people he'd killed…this man was the one who deserved his wrath the most.

It was an odd favor of sorts, he could only imagine that Michael had something to do with his living arrangement. No way did Jacob find himself assigned to cell fourteen by accident, and who else but Michael would have the influence and reason to ask for such a thing? Michael had given him an opportunity for revenge, and try as he might to think himself above such things, he'd taken it.

He'd made progress; honest, personal growth, and it was something he was proud of, but the line ran through his mind, "We are captives of our own identities. Living in prisons of our own creations."

He'd almost accepted that this was simply who he was. A prisoner. In and out of physical ones for as long as he cared to remember, but just as equally- a prisoner of himself. He stared at Jacob's blood-red, strained face beneath him and heard only muffled silence around him. Was this all he'd ever be?

A loud buzz barely registered in his mind, preceding the door sliding open as two guards entered, grabbing T-bag and pulling him off Jacob who was bleeding profusely.

"Stay here," they hollered at T-bag as they slung Jacob's arms over each of their shoulders, "close on fourteen!" the guard yelled through gritted teeth, bearing the weight of another man and trying to maneuver him out of the cellblock and to the infirmary.

The door slid shut as T-bag sat down on the bed, the hollering around him beginning to cease. He stared at his bloody hands, his mind a blur. He felt nothing now; no rage, no fear, no grief. An image of Whip flashed behind his eyes, but all he felt was empty. Jacob would die. If not today, then sometime soon, and by his own hands.

Would it help? Would it really make him feel better, like something was right in the world again? He doubted it, but he couldn't let Jacob go unpunished. An eye for an eye, that's how things worked in prison, and prison was all he knew anymore.

XXXXXX

"Ok, be honest with me," Sara started as Michael plopped down on the couch, "is it weird living here?"

"What'dya mean?" he asked through furrowed brows.

She shrugged and gracefully perched next to him on the armrest, "A lot of bad things have happened here," she stated bluntly, "a lot of literal blood spilled. A lot of fear," she paused and ran a hand through her hair, "not to mention the fact that Jacob used to live here too."

"This is Mike's home," he answered, avoiding a few of her key points with one that was obviously most important to him, "he's comfortable here. His school, his friends-"

"-I'm not saying we'd have to move out of state or anything," she clarified, her eyes wandering around the room they were in, softly, "I'm just saying…maybe a different house."

"You don't want to be here," he observed.

She scoffed, chuckling darkly as she tilted her head back and forth, unable to vocalize her feelings. How could she possibly summarize the ill-will she felt towards this place? Nothing around her felt right; there was no sentimentality about Mike growing up there that could outweigh the deep discomfort she felt in knowing that she and Jacob had also built a life of sorts inside these walls. The bed upstairs, she'd shared with him. The lounge chairs on the back deck where they'd spent too many evenings to count- him sipping a glass of red wine and she enjoying anything else…it was all still here. It was driving her mad.

It felt as though she was living in the past, like when she walked in the front door everything should be the same as it was a month ago. She didn't want it to be that way, but there was an odd disconnect, and she suspected that the house itself was partially to blame. She wanted to be somewhere else.

"We can move," Michael offered, "I just think it would be best to not move too far, so Mike doesn't have too much change all at once…he's got enough to process right now."

"Agreed," she nodded, "I wouldn't want him to change schools or anything, just…just a different house."

It was summer break, so moving schools wouldn't have been an immediate concern, but she liked his school and so did he. He had a small group of close friends and she didn't want to disrupt that, making him start over again in a whole other way.

She hadn't realized her hands were fidgeting until Michael placed his on top of them, willing them to stop.

"We can move," he stated again, more concretely this time.

"I'd like that."

XXXXXX

Sara's hand held the strap of her bag as it rested on her shoulder, and she walked up the steps to the county courthouse; she needed divorce papers.

The legality of it all was annoying, but she knew her mind wouldn't rest until she and Jacob were officially, legally, separated.

It was a warm summer morning, and her sunglasses were perched on top of her head, feeling a slight breeze playing with her hair.

Michael had asked if she wanted company on her errands, meaning both him and Mike accompanying her, but she denied, wanting to do this part alone. It was a boring errand anyways, and since she had time she'd probably stop at a few stores while she was out and about, the normalcy of it all allowing her mind to wander and process. She didn't mind the alone time. Besides, Mike was happily drawing when she'd left, and Michael was sipping coffee and watching him, a look of contented pride on his face. It was good for them to have time together, just the two of them.

How strange for Michael, she considered, to have to learn who Mike is- his preferences, habits, and nuances, after so many years of not being there. She knew it was painful for Michael, how could it not be? But she was glad to see how involved and happy he seemed to be- not at all shy about parenting or being hands on with him.

She pulled open the heavy door to the courthouse and stepped inside, looking at the board to see which suite she needed.

Jacob was, to her knowledge, already back in Fox River. The irony of it all was more amusing than it should be, but she tried to remain distant, not allowing him to occupy more of her thoughts than necessary. She'd contemplated the challenges he would face- dealing with other inmates, the way that avoiding trouble was impossible. He'd be harassed, physically harmed…but when those thoughts had entered her mind, she shut them down. She didn't want to feel vengeful, excited by the possibility of his suffering, and she certainly didn't want to feel sympathy. She didn't want to feel anything towards him. Nothing at all.

It wasn't an easy feat, given her empathetic nature, but she was doing her best. Focusing on Michael and her son was helpful- living in the present.

She walked down the hallway towards the correct office, contemplating how this would all go.

Divorcing an inmate might make the process lengthier and more difficult- it's not like she could walk over to meet Jacob with the papers, have him sign it and be done with it. They were states away, which meant relying on snail mail and time to get this process over with, which is why she was starting it now. Today.

She and Michael had talked about getting married again, but just like divorcing Jacob, it wouldn't be easy. They'd been married until he died…but he never actually did. Were they still married? The whole "until death do us part" thing? She huffed a frustrated sigh as she pulled the door to the suite open, and braced herself for the confused expression of whichever clerk decided to help her.

Where to even start? Bluntness was her default, but she thought about how that might go-

Hi, I was married to Michael and then he died. I married Jacob, but Michael never actually died. Now I want to divorce Jacob. Oh, and am I still married to Michael or…?

She couldn't help but scoff and smile to herself, it was ridiculous, but it was her reality.

"Next," a clerk called from behind the counter.

She exhaled and stepped forward; sooner started, sooner finished.

XXXXX

"Come on Charlotte, we're gonna be late!" Veronica hollered at her six year old, who was taking her sweet time in the bathroom. Day care drop off was in twenty minutes, and Veronica couldn't afford to be late to work. She was on a case, and needed to be at the courthouse by 8:30.

Lincoln was already at work for the day- construction gigs meant he was out of the house at all hours, his schedule unpredictable. He liked the work though, and it kept him out of trouble. From everything he'd told her, the group of guys he worked with were the real deal- solid, dependable, and a good influence. That, combined with his desire to redeem himself in fatherhood, had kept him on the straight and narrow for years now.

He was good with Charlotte, and despite the feelings of failure she knew that Lincoln held onto about him, L.J. was doing fine too,. He'd gotten a job and stayed out of trouble, and whenever he came to visit, he adored Char, being a combination of a big brother and, given the age difference, a fun uncle all wrapped into one.

"Char!" she hollered again before huffing and opening the bathroom door to find her daughter standing by the sink, playing with the stream of warm, running water, "come here you," she picked her up in a swoop and shut off the sink, "it's time to go, silly."

"Do I have to?" she asked as her arms wrapped around Veronica's neck.

"Yup, we talked about this remember?" she replied as she grabbed her briefcase and keys, "I'll be there tonight to pick you up, but today you're gonna go have fun," she grabbed Charlotte's backpack, "It's nice outside, I'm sure you'll spend lots of time on the playground, right?"

Her green eyes brightened at the thought, "Yea!"

Though her looks resembled Veronica- green eyes and ebony hair, her personality was where Lincoln's traits shone through. She was an active little thing, always preferring to be on the playground or running around than doing anything studious. Unlike Mike, Veronica thought as they went out to the car, it was amazing how much the kids took on the personality of their fathers. Char being happiest outside and Mike being quite content to play quietly, coloring and drawing, reading…she tried to get Char more excited about books with little success, as she often got squirmy before the book was even half over. Perhaps with time she'll mellow out, although Veronica had a secret liking of her daughter's tough, outdoorsy nature.

She placed Charlotte in the backseat and buckled her up, then did a quick mental check to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything; nothing came to mind, so she got in and turned the key, ready to take on another day.

XXXXXX

Jacob awoke to a symphony of beeps, and the slight pinching feeling that came with having needles taped to various parts of his body. His eyes opened slowly, absorbing the room around him and noting, through a heavy mental fog, that he wasn't in Fox River anymore. It was a hospital, that much was obvious, but it certainly wasn't the infirmary. He hadn't seen it yet, but he couldn't imagine that it would be this…nice.

Upon trying to move his right arm, he realized he was handcuffed to the bed. Hmm. Maybe he was in Fox River? No, he reasoned again, they wouldn't have this level of sophisticated instrumentation. He felt the cloth beneath him and confirmed again that he was in a hospital bed- a real one, not the kind you normally find in a doctor's office with the crinkly paper.

He was thinking slowly, not clearly, but had enough of his wits about him to find the red call button and press it. The motion caused a stir of pain, a sharp gasp escaping his lips- by moving his arm in that way, he could feel a tug in his neck, a jolt.

A nurse appeared in the doorway. Though his eyes were mostly closed from the pain, he could see a guard behind her, standing outside of his room.

"Jacob, my name is Melanie," the young woman approached him, "how're you feeling?"

"Uh, my neck hurts," he managed, hoping he sounded more coherent than he felt.

Nodding, "You had a puncture wound, but we did surgery and it all went well. We expect a full recovery."

A million thoughts rushed behind his eyes, and he struggled to grasp even one. The only image that stuck was one of Theodore Bagwell, holding him down, the cold metal against his skin, plunging into his neck…

"Do you have any questions?" the nurse prompted, her brows furrowed at his silence.

"A lot," he laughed weakly, already trying to turn on the charm, to manipulate her into letting him stay in the hospital longer, "but the first is…how long will I be here?"

Her expression softened, "Probably just another day or two; once you're stable and recovering well, they're going to send you back."

He nodded obediently, "Guess I can't expect much more than that," he paused, "thank you. Thank you all so much for saving me."

"Of course," she patted his hand, "now you rest up, I'll be back in a while to check on you."

XXXXXX

"Hey," Michael greeted from the kitchen table as Sara walked in and set a few grocery bags down on the counter.

"Hey yourself," she replied as she walked over to where he and Mike sat. They were doing a jigsaw puzzle, and the sight made her smile. Like father like son- always solving, figuring things out.

"How's your day been?" she asked Mike, planting a kiss on top of his head.

"Good," he replied as his eyes scanned the puzzle before him, a piece in hand, obviously focused on it more than her.

"And you?" she asked Michael, kissing his head the same way.

He looked up briefly, "Good, yea," and then resumed watching Mike, playing with a puzzle piece between his own fingers, but clearly letting Mike do most of the work.

"Such chatterboxes," she replied sarcastically through a smile, feeling Michael's smirk on her back as she walked to the counter to start unpacking groceries.

After a moment of putting perishables away, she felt Michael's presence behind her, his hands coming to rest on her hips from behind. The last of the groceries were on the counter, but she abandoned them momentarily to turn her head to the left, accepting the feather-light kiss he placed on her cheek.

"How was your day?" he asked softly.

"Good," she answered, slightly mocking their earlier responses, but there was truth in it, "got a lot done."

"I see that," he grabbed a box of cereal and headed towards the pantry to put it away, "and how did it go at the…you know-" he glanced towards Mike, making sure his head was still buried in the puzzle. It was.

"Fine, yea," she replied, "got all the paperwork done that I needed to do on my end. It's a bit complicated given his current situation, but they assured me that it would get done. It just might take a little time."

"Well, that's understandable," he replied.

"Doesn't mean I have to like it," she answered with a hint of bitterness as she continued busying herself with the objects on the counter.

Calmly, "I know, but at least he's there and we're here."

Sighing, "Yea…I just hate that he's still…that I'm still married to him."

Calling Jacob her "husband" felt insanely wrong- it physically hurt, like someone had a vise grip on her heart.

"You know," he came closer, leaning his back against the counter and folding his arms, forcing her to face him more directly, "I was married when we met."

She smiled now, "That is so not the point."

He shrugged, a grin, "I'm just saying, a piece of paper hasn't stopped us before from being together."

"That makes it sound like we're both cheaters. Dirty, rotten cheaters."

"But for love," he emphasized, a dramatic hand gesture, "true love."

She chuckled, allowing herself to relax a little bit, "Yea, I guess you're right."

"It'll all be over soon," he assured, kissing her cheek before heading back over to Mike.

She sighed, under her breath, "I sure hope so."